


Facing Death

by MiniRaven



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Day of the Dead, Established Relationship, Halloween, Halloween Gift Exchange, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5008087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniRaven/pseuds/MiniRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bart is feeling bad, so Jamie introduces his boyfriend to Dia de los Muertos hoping it will make things better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Facing Death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaceLilies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceLilies/gifts).



> Happy Dia de los Muertos and a Happy Halloween! Out of the three options, YJ was the one I'm most familiar with and the prompt about Dia de lost Muertsos really spoke to me. Hope doing this prompt was okay.
> 
> Warning: Gets a little sexually heated in the beginning, but that's about it.

The first thing Jamie saw when he opened the door was Bart; sitting on the bed in what Jamie had begun to associate as “Bart’s Spot”. The sheets were familiarly creased under the featherweight body as he waited for Jamie to return from school. However, there was something that made it look like the normally light creases had deepened under some unseen weight. For a brief second, the lighter than air body seemed heavier. A dark gravity in Bart’s eyes that was gone the second Bart heard the door open.

“Jamie, hermano.” The darkness vanished instantly and was replaced with the familiar bright light in Barth’s piercing green eyes. “How you doing?”

“Bart?” Jamie quickly closed the door behind him. “What are you doing in my bedroom? And how did you get here?” he harshly whispered.

“The window,” Bart said as casually as if someone asked him about the weather.

Jamie groaned, setting his school bag down on the bed. “Why can’t you just use the door like a normal person?” he asked, checking the window for any damage before locking it shut.

Bart shrugged. “Less fun that way.” 

Jamie tried to stay mad for the breaking and entering, but it was hard not to laugh at Bart’s simplicity. “Couldn’t wait to see me at the tower, huh ese?” he asked with a smirk.

Bart smiled, sauntering his way over into Jamie’s space. “You know it,” Bart hummed, reaching up to wrap his arms around Jamie’s neck. With careful fingers, he gently pulled at the short hairs on the back of Jamie’s neck as he brought their heads closer. 

Jamie hummed his approval as they kissed. It hadn’t even been a day, and yet Jamie missed his boyfriend like a missing limb. He treasured the heat and the familiar firmness of Bart’s lower lip, the way his thumb rubbed that special spot at the back of Jamie’s neck making him melt on the inside. Jamie’s hands gravitated down Bart’s slim body, looking for that special point to make Bart shiver with need. Sucking and pulling, he urged Bart’s to come closer. With full lips, he tried to invite Bart deeper into his mouth, but something was still off. 

Bart wasn’t responding like usual. His lips were still incessant and fast, that was the same, but his tongue, the breath from his mouth, something was holding them back from fully diving in. 

“Bart,” Jamie murmured, pulling back from the kiss. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looked at the shorter boy under half lidded eyes. 

“You, not crashing the mode,” Bart purred, nuzzling his way back into Jamie’s warm lips. 

The taste of foreign tongue in his mouth made Jamie forget his worries for a minute, making his eyes roll back and his toes curl up. But it wasn’t enough to cover up how wrong and forceful the intimacy was. “I’m serious,” Jamie put his hands between him and Bart’s mouth. His breath came out in short pants as he tried not to think too much about the hot weight in his pants. “Something feels off.” 

“Nothing’s off,” Bar replied indigently. “What am I doing that make you think something’s ‘off’?” 

Sometimes Jamie pretended to buy Bart’s bullshit (there was surprisingly a lot of it when your boyfriend came from the future), but todays didn’t feel like one of those days where playing stupid was a good idea. Good relationships, like the one Papi and Mama had, were built on communication. And whatever it was that was bother Bart, it seemed like one of those rare times that Jamie needed to know what was going on.

Jamie tried to give his boyfriend the best ‘I’m not impressed’ look that he could: one eyebrow raised, skeptic look in his eyes, a less than impressed downturn of his mouth. Mama would always do it better from him, but he had gotten a few comments from the younger members of the team that it was quite convincing.

“We’ve been dating for five months, and we’ve been working together longer than that,” he said, trying to be firm but not imposing. “I’m pretty sure I know when something is troubling my boyfriend.” 

Bart looked away, the tips of his ears turning pink behind the shaggy auburn hair. Caught red handed. “Just wanted to get away for a bit. That’s all,” he muttered. Bart began to squirm uncomfortably under the scrutiny. “The Watchtower is crash and all, and gramps and gran are nice, but sometimes, I don’t know Jamie. Sometimes it’s just too much. Sometimes, I need to get away.” 

Jamie nodded. Bart had often dropped by unexpectedly for sanctuary after Wally disappeared and he became Kid Flash. “Having one of those days?” he asked, rubbing the small indent over Bart’s hip. 

Bart scoffed and pulled out. “Try one of those weeks,” he said, falling backwards onto Jamie’s bed. “Every time I put on the suit, it feels weird. Like something is haunting me, and no matter how fast I run, I can’t seem to shake it off.” 

“You should run it by one of the mystics,” offered Jamie, taking a seat next to Bart’s limp body. 

“I did,” huffed Bart, clearly frustrated with the situation. “Zatanna says there’s nothing wrong with the suit or me. Guessing it’s in my head, but it’s never been this bad before.”

“What’s never been this bad before?” asked Jamie. 

Bart stayed silent. His eyes were turned away and pointedly not toward Jamie. 

The silence is what made it click. “This isn’t about the suit, is it?” 

Bart made no effort to confirm or deny. 

Jamie pressed on. He had a hunch, but it was risky to bring it up. “It’s about Wally, isn’t it?” 

Bart rolled his body over so it faced the wall, but his mouth stayed still. 

So, guilt was rearing its ugly head again. They had been over this a thousand times before with Black Canary and Flash, and Jamie would go over it a thousand times more if it would help Bart heal. Wally West’s death was not Bart’s fault. Just because Wally West lived longer in the future that Bart came from, didn’t mean that Bart’s presence in the past was a bad thing. And it didn’t meant that wearing the suit and continuing the name Kid Flash was meant as Bart’s punishment for changing the past. 

If Wally was still around, Jamie was sure he would be proud of Bart for wearing the suit, and prouder still to see all the good that Bart had done using that name. The suit and the name was something Bart should take pride in. It was a way to continue the Flash legacy. But also, Jamie saw it as a way to honor the dead. In his mind, it was a way of saying, “We may have lost, but we’re still strong.” And sometimes, when times got tough or the guilt was too heavy to bear alone, honoring the death and sacrifice of fallen comrades was the best thing a person could do. 

“Mijo,” a voice floated in from the kitchen. “It’s time.”

“Just a minute Mama,” Jamie called back through the door. Was it really that time? Jamie was sure they weren’t supposed to start for another hour or so.

Bart closed his eyes, face pinching in invisible pain “I should go,” Bart said reluctantly, gather his whist about him and heading back for the window. “Sounds like a private thing. Wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“No!” If Bart was feeling guilty right now, he needed someone to help him get past it. Jamie’s family could wait. His boyfriend needed him.

In selfish impulse, Jamie reached out and grabbed Bart’s wrist, holding the boy back. Regrets and shame raced through his mind as Bart’s body stiffened and stilled. For a second Jamie couldn’t breathe, air trapped in his lungs. Maybe he had done wrong. Maybe now was the time to let Bart go and give him space to figure it out on his own. Maybe Jamie was being a clingy boyfriend for stopping him. This was his first relationship; and although he was familiar with Bart and his mannerisms, he wasn’t all too familiar with the ins and outs of when to leave a romantic partner appropriate space to grieve.

Jamie tried to calm down. He felt the familiar pulse of Bart’s heartbeat under his fingers, fluttering as the nanoseconds ticked by. The rest of his body, an unmoving statue. His body stayed still under Jamie’s hand and his mouth remained closed from any mouthy retort. Maybe Jamie’s gut was right. Maybe Bart needed to be close to Jamie.

With a nervous gulp of air, Jamie asked the simple request that had been on the tip of his tongue for weeks. “I think you should stay,” he insisted, keeping his voice gentle and low. Rubbing the soft pad of his thumb against the bony hand, Jamie tried to put all his love and devotion into the request. “I think it would be good if you stayed,” he said, the words barely louder than a whisper as he gently moved his sun kissed fingers so they intertwined with the other boy’s pale hand.

Bart didn’t move. Only the slow dance of long fingers in Jamie’s hand gave any indication that Bart may secretly want to agree. “And do what exactly?” asked Bart, letting out the familiar yet small, pitiful excuse of a laugh that made Jamie cringe on the inside. “Are you going to introduce me to your mom?”

 

* * *

Jamie’s hand pressed against the small of Bart’s back as he pushed him into the kitchen. “Mom, this is Bart Allen. He’s a friend from school.”

“Buenos tardes _Señora_ Reyes,” Bart voice cracked, but he greeted Mama like a civilized being _not_ from the future, so it was a pass in Jamie’s book.

“Buenos tardes,” his mother said with a friendly smile. “We were just about to decorate some calaveras.”

Bart stood up on his tiptoes to get a better look at the skeleton white sugar molds on the table. “Looks like fun,” he said an intrigued glint in his eyes.

Taking that as his cue, Jamie coughed for his mother’s attention. “Mama, would it be okay if Bart decorates one this year? He’s never done it before.”

“Of course mijo. He can have one of mine.”

“Thanks _Señora_ Reyes,” Bart said with a smile before he rushed over to an open seat. He tossed the solid sugar structure around in his hands for a bit as Jamie took his own seat. “They’re a little small,” he remarked.

“That’s because these are the ones you can eat,” said Jamie, pulling out the seat next to Bart. “We have bigger, fancier ones that we bring out during Dia de los Muertos, but those even you wouldn’t want to eat. They got a whole bunch of chemicals in them that really aren’t that good for you.”

“So what do we do?” asked Bart, scrutinizing the creature staring back at him with soulless white eyes.

Jamie suppressed a chuckle at the impromptu staring contest. “Decorate them.” He handed over a few bags of colored icing, but not before testing them out on the back of his hand. Bart immediately gravitated toward the bright yellow. “Think of it like a fall version of Easter. Getting to decorate eggs and the such, but with sugar skulls. And instead of celebrating the dead being brought back to life, we celebrate the dead being, well, dead.”

Bart gave the bag a testing squeeze. A small spurt of icing bloomed out from the top. “Not quite sure I follow.”

Jamie huffed in slight frustration. Over time he had gotten better and explaining Mexican culture to gringos, but it never made it less of a pain in the butt to explain something that came so naturally to him. Well, maybe it was a little less painful since it was Bart.

“It’s a day of remembrance. A day of celebrating our friends and relatives that have come before us and have left before us. We make offer up their favorite foods, decorate their graves as a way to celebrate the life that they have lived.”

“Huh,” said Bart, oddly focused on his sugar skull. His usually impatient hands were quiet and focused on carefully squeezing out the icing.

Jamie leaned closer to Bart, careful not to get in the way. First time decorating sugar skulls was always special. And as much as Jamie wanted to take the icing away and show his boyfriend the correct way to do it, he tapped down the urge the same way he ignored the scarab on his back. “You okay?” he asked, poking a nosey nose into Bart’s project.

“Yeah,” replied Bart, clearly deep in thought. His hands shook only slightly under the stress. “Just can’t make this line straight.”

“Not surprised your having a hard time,” joked Jamie. “There’s nothing straight about you.”

“Ha ha,” mocked Bart, concentration consumed by the task at hand. “Says the one who’s dating me.”

Jamie leaned over and kissed his boyfriend on the temple. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he whispered into the shell of Bart’s ear.

 

* * *

“We’re doing what?” asked Conner. The team had gathered in the common area for an impromptu team meeting lead by the one and only, Kid Flash.

“A celebration of the dead,” announced Bart, a little too chipper considering the topic.

M’gaan looked skeptical. “That’s a little,” She looked at the faces around the room for a more tactful response. Nobody moved a muscle. “Morbid?” she offered with a helpless shrug of her shoulders.

“No way. It’s totally crash,” insisted Bart. His hands darted around the air in enthusiasm. “You see, you get these white skulls, decorate them, shove it in the faces of dead people, and then you eat them!”

“Like M’gann said,” Tim reiterated. “Morbid.”

Bart’s shoulders slouched in defeat, but his spirit kept on trucking “Oh come on,” he insisted, trying to get everyone in the spirit of the holiday. “It’ll be fun. Right Blue?”

_“The fast one is more incompetent today that usual. We should destroy him while we have the chance.”_

Jamie choose to ignore the beetle. Destroying one’s boyfriend over misrepresentation was not the best way to keep said boyfriend around. At least, not without his consent. And besides, Jamie liked Bart, even if he did agree that Bart wasn’t doing the best job in describing Dia de los Muertos.

“What you’re describing is not Dia de los Muertos at all,” Jamie said, unimpressed and unhappy that Bart had dragged him into this conversation. “Yes, sugar skulls are part of the tradition, but there’s more to it.”

Conner blinked in confusion. “Wait, do you actually shove skulls into people’s faces?”

“Oh, the Day of the Dead!” Cassie began to bounce with excitement. “I remember learning about it in school. I always thought it looked so beautiful. With all the vibrant colors and the flowers,” she looked around expectantly at the faces around her. “You think we can do that this year? As a group?” Cassie was practically bouncing up and down with excitement. 

Tim, arm across the back of Cassie’s chair, shrugged. “Not like we have any plans for Halloween. I mean, there’s the usual last minute Halloween parties we could get invited to-”

“But if a bad guy starts causing trouble in the middle of the party, it’s such a pain to get up and leave,” Cassie protested. “If we do it as a team thing-”

Bart climbed up on one of the tables, standing legs apart and hands on his hips. There was a mischievous sparkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. “Then it’s settled,” he said in a deep heroic voice.

“Please no,” Jamie begged, rubbing the bridge of his nose in painful embracement.

“October 31st will unofficially be the Day of the Dead!” declared Bart, jumping off the table into a pile of authentic cheers and confused applause.

“October 31st _is part_ of the Day of the Dead!” Jamie yelled over the increasing din of excited teenagers.

Bart rushed over to Jamie in a rush of wind. Thankfully, the suit was sturdy enough that Jamie didn’t get knocked down. “Blue, you’re our resident expert on all things Spanish.”

“It’s a Mexican holiday,” clarified Jamie, unimpressed at the turn of events.

Bart didn’t seem to notice as he pushed a finger into Jamie’s face. “So you’ll be in charge of setting everything up.”

“Why?” asked Jamie, unamused by the proposition. He pushed the finger away. “This was your idea in the first place. Why don’t you do it?”

“Thinkers can’t be doers Blue,” insisted Bart with an innocent smile. “And besides, do you really want gringo hands all over _your_ holiday?” he asked, knowingly bating Jamie with a juicy truth.

Jamie frowned. He really didn’t. Bart was cool, but he clearly didn’t know the first thing about Dia de los Muertos. This was his heritage, his holiday. If they were going to do Dia de los Muertos in the Watchtower, Jamie would be damned if they didn’t do it right. There was no way he would short change his heritage with incorrect representation of one of the best holidays of the year.

Also, this was the first time in a long time that Jamie had seen Bart this happy. To most people, Bart put on a happy, carefree face twenty four- seven. But in front of Jamie, Bart let his walls down and revealed his true colors. He could be happy, sad, disappointed, and downright angry at being stuck in the past. Since the end of the Reach and the beginning of their relationship, Bart had seemed happier these days; but he also seemed sadder and more distant at odd times. Like the last time they had a big feast in the Watchtower, or the week before where he had spent an hour just staring at the Kid Flash suit.

Maybe going along with this crazy scheme would be good for Bart. It seemed to be doing some sort of good at the moment. The look in his eyes wasn’t as haunted as it had been during Bart’s surprise visit. Maybe it would be just enough of a distraction to help Bart get over this funk he was in. If there was anything Jamie could do to help his boyfriend, even something as random as having a Dia de los Muertos party, Jamie would do it in a heartbeat.

Jamie’s shoulders fell as he sighed in defeat. “Fine. But,” he held up a hand before Bart could interject with some crazy comment. “From now on, you are my pack mule for all the stuff I need to get, and I hate you.”

Kid Flash smiled and planted a kiss on Jamie’s mask covered face. “Pretty sure you love me.”

Jamie captured the back of his neck and pulled Bart back in for another kiss. “And every day I wonder how that was a good decision,” he mumbled into Bart’s beautiful lips.

 

* * *

Right off the bat, Jamie knew the team couldn’t partake in every tradition associated with the special day. There were just some things were better suited for families and less suitable for a team of horny teenagers. So Jamie focused on organizing activities that would be most fun in a group setting. Things like making papel picado, decorating sugar skulls, maybe baking pan de muerto together if they were bold enough, and of course setting up the ofrenda.

And come the special night, under the eternal darkness of the Watchtower and the vibrant tissue paper banners; Jamie made sure the young heroes were able to celebrate Dia de los Muertos correctly.

Candles blazed away to the beat of pop music, curtsey of Virgil, as laughter filled the normally morbid memorial. Under Jamie’s instructions, everyone had brought their favorite picture of the deceased for the ofrenda, as well as the dead’s favorite food to be lain of the grave as an offering. Taking time to properly remember each of their fallen friends, the team decorated the graves with bright, beautiful flowers, and fresh orange and yellow cempasuchil. They took turns sharing fond memories and telling stories about when the person had been alive.

“Tula was an amazing person.” Kaldru’ahm had brought her favorite shells and jewelry pieces to be placed by her image. “She was kind to everyone she met, and her skills were like no other.”

“When Batman chose Jason Todd to be the next Robin, I thought he was going insane. I mean, the guy was too whelmed for his own good. Always took jokes too seriously.” Dick placed a familiarly shaped mask on the monument. “But, he did good work.”

“What was not to like about Wally?” asked Artemis, placing his favorite plates of ‘everything’ around his name. “He was smart, funny, always a blast to be around, even if he ate way too much junk food for his own good. More than once, I had to help him through stomach aches and bad hangovers even though he said, ‘No babe. I’ll be fine. Quick metabolism can fix anything.’ And I would always say, ‘Babe, quick metabolism also means quick to underestimate said metabolism.’”

Large gestures, musical accompaniment, and intricate props came into play as members of the team told their account of legendary encounters. And as the truth began to grow into exaggeration, the guilty tension melted away, replacing the unease with smiles and pears of laughter.

When the clock rang to signal the beginning of the feast for the living, everyone left agreed that it was time worth spent. The once somber graveyard was now covered in a bed of warm blankets, golden candlelight, and fond memories of those lost. And as Jamie ushered the last of his teammates toward the feast, he felt that any form of regret, guilt, or sadness that once haunted the grounds had been washed away long ago.

As everyone gathered around the table of food to continue the celebration, laughing and eating the remains of the offering, Jamie noticed that Bart was nowhere to be found. Quietly excusing himself, he slipped out and did a quick scan of the tower. When the results came in Jamie’s pulse quickened. Quietly as possible, he flew over and landed in the soft grass of the memorial.

Bart Allen stood in front of Wally West’s stone, clad only in street clothes. His face was as cold and dark as forgotten grave stones, whose owner’s names had been lost to time. In his hands, the yellow of the super suit glowed in the flickering light of the candles.

A cold anxiety began to grow in Jamie’s stomach. “What are you doing?” asked Jamie, coming up behind his boyfriend. He wanted to reach out and touch Bart’s shoulder, reassure him that everything would be okay. 

Things had gone so well with the celebration. Bart being involved every step of the way, running errands, and helping out when needed. Jamie really thought that celebrating Dia de los Muertos in the Watchtower was easing the guilt and helping Bart heal.

But Bart didn’t turn around. He just stood there, stoically, staring at the memorial. “Before I came here, I didn’t really know Wally West,” he said, not moving an inch.

Jamie tried not to step back in shock. Bart hadn’t contributed anything during the speeches, and he rarely talked about the future. Jamie forced down any urge to comfort his boyfriend. This was part of the healing process, and if Bart needed to talk as if no one was listening, the least Jamie could do was give him that.

“After grandpa died,” Bart continued, not bothering to see if Jamie was listening or not, “Wally took over as Flash. Had to. Dad was too young to take on the Flash name and, well let’s be honest, his powers were too finicky. Or will be. Time travel is kinda weird like that,” he said with a strained chuckle.

“The point is, I grew up on stories of Wally West for a long time. There were always whispers in the trenches about who he saved, great things he had done, how crash he was, what a great leader he was, or how he was going to save us from the Reach. Last I heard, he was planning an assault on Reach headquarters with a small group of rebels; both powered and non-powered.”

Candle light danced in the green of his eyes as the water began to gather in his tear ducts. “Wally West was a legendary Flash. I had sketches of him on my wall from people that had seen him in action. We didn’t have posters, but I always dreamed I could meet him someday. And then, one day, I couldn’t.”

“The Reach put his body out on display after the attack on Reach headquarters went bad.” His voice shook, recounting that dark day. “They wanted to make a statement, to scare everyone into submission, and they did. I was just a kid at the time, but I remember being utterly terrified. For the longest time I thought somehow, the Reach would find me and put me on display the same way they did Flash. If they could do that to one speedster, what was to stop them from doing that to me? Scared me so much, I stopped running entirely. I forced myself to walk everywhere for almost an entire year. Sometimes, I still have nightmares.”

Bart's body was hunched over, as if trying to make himself smaller. He sniffed, forcing the tears back and his back to straighten. “After that, Dad had to step up. The rebellion needed a leader who could help morale. A name and a face that they could rally behind. Who better than an Allen, right?” he said with a strained smile.

“When Dad and Aunt Dawn left, that was kinda the end of everything. I never heard from them or saw them ever again. Never found out what happened before I left for the past, but I always assumed that whatever happened moded them for good.”

“I joined a faction of the rebellion as soon as I looked old enough to lie about my age. Wally joined the rebellion in his early twenties, so what was ten years difference in the grand scale of things? Ended up getting captured, sent to a prison camp, and escaping when they started looking into slaves with metagenes.”

His laugh was forced and harsh on Jamie’s ears. “I don’t even know where I was going with this. But, seeing myself as Kid Flash every time I look in the mirror, I remember everything that Wally was; a hero, a leader. And every time I see my reflection, I think how much I’m not. I’m an imposter Jamie. I’m just another fanboy playing dress up. Me coming back here, stopping the Reach, he should have lived a long life surrounded by people he loved. He shouldn’t have to suffer again. But he did. I came back to fix things with you, and in exchange I killed him.”

“I’m not sure if I can do this anymore,” he sighed. “So I’m taking a moment to give back what was never mine.” Bart placed the bright suit on the cold stone. His voice was cold and steady, normally vibrant green eyes downcast and dark. His mind was made up. There was no stopping him from quitting.

Jamie began to panic. “Bart, please don’t,” he pleaded. Bart had just poured his heart out in the candle lit sanctuary. Jamie would be damned if let Bart go like this. “Please don’t quit the team. I know you’ve been having issues about the being Kid Flash and what it means to carry that legacy, but you can’t just give up now. Think of all the good you done. We need you. I need you.”

“Who said anything about quitting?” asked Bart. His eyes were still a bit puffy, but the confusion was clear on his face. “I’m just giving up the costume. It's been giving me problems as of late. Gonna make a new one that’s all me. The padding and the evil scientist goggles may have worked for Wally, but it’s not working for me.” He began to walk away, the normal carefree air returning to his posture. “Too much yellow. Needs a tad bit more red. It’s too heavy too. My suit from the future is pretty crash for running; light weight, really wind resistant, had enough Allen’s in the family that Dad got suits and fabric customized for our speed. Thought I’d take bits of that and use it for my new uniform.”

“Blue?” Bart tilted his head inquisitively. “Everything okay Blue?”

Jamie couldn’t help it. As Bart went into detail about the new suit he wanted, mirth and relief spilled out from his mouth. Of all the things that could be wrong, it was the suit. The suit was the thing that was bringing him down and making him sad.

With relief in his heart, he pulled Bart close to his chest. “Yeah,” Jamie said, kissing his boyfriend and snuggling his face into the crook of Bart’s neck. “Everything is great.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! I've never done this much angst before, but I hope it was enjoyable.
> 
> Feel free to follow my tumbler and see all the random stuff I reblog. It's mostly Marvel stuff, but feel free to drop me a line or leave a comment whenever you like. [[link]](http://miniblackraven.tumblr.com/)


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